Twenty-Nine
TWENTY-NINE
Nat
AFTER A SOLID WEEK of prep work, the grand reopening of the Elderflower Inn was in full swing. I’d spent the first two hours waiting for disaster to strike—for the inexperienced new members of the crew to flounder, or the new menu to prove unpopular, or some shady gangbanger to sneak in and set off a smoke bomb or something.
But Ayden, while he seemed a bit harried, hadn’t bungled any orders or dropped any platters of expensive food. And Maleeka seemed equally at home working the food line as she had while casually getting us four hundred seventy-five thousand new social media followers.
Four hundred seventy-five thousand.
Clearly, at thirty-one years old, I’d already aged out of the social media game and needed to hand the reins over to Gen Z. Christ .
Meanwhile, Mia’s new mini pizza rounds and the bergamot-cinnamon chocolate lava cake were flying off the menu, to the extent that we were probably going to run out of the cake, at least, before close. I made a mental note to source another delivery of fresh bergamot right away.
So far, no one had released any roaches, smoke bombs, stink bombs, or any other horrors inside the restaurant. I was making the rounds, glad-handing with the customers while keeping a surreptitious eye out for tattoos as I went. I had the waitstaff doing the same. So far, none of the customers had pinged our radar.
Practical upshot—things were going way too smoothly. I could hear cash-register sound effects ka-chinging in my head, dollar signs piling up as hungry diners ordered expensive entrées and drink refills.
“I’m so relieved that you’re open again!” gushed a gray-haired regular, as she reached a manicured hand out to shake mine delicately. “My granddaughter told me all about what happened after she saw it on the Instant Gram. Unbelievable how some people behave—I hope you sicced the police on that boy!”
I thanked her and murmured something about the legal case being ongoing, then excused myself to do another quick walkaround of the dining area.
A new party of four was being seated in the far corner... a very familiar party of four. Something inside my chest twisted into a complicated knot. Squaring my shoulders and pasting a pleasant, welcoming expression on my face, I went to greet Mia’s guests.
“Welcome to the Elderflower Inn,” I said, as four heads looked up from their menus in response. “Thank you for coming tonight. I know it will mean a lot to Mia.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Zalen said mildly.
“Hi, Nat. Almost didn’t recognize you without the sweaty gym clothes,” Emiel added. And was that... teasing ?
“Almost didn’t recognize you without a half-eaten bear claw in your hand,” I nudged back, sadly out of practice with the rhythm of banter between new friends. “I’m afraid we don’t have those on the menu.”
He scoffed, looking shy and pleased. “Nah. As long as you got my lava cake, we’re good.”
“I’ll make sure they hold a piece back for you in the kitchen,” I promised him. “The cake’s going fast tonight.”
“Not surprised,” murmured the slender, green-eyed omega, Luca.
He’d been watching my exchange with Emiel, curiosity sparking his gaze.
“It is a rather... inspiring ... dessert,” said the final member of the party. His tone was arch.
I’d been trying my best not to look at Byron Harper, but I couldn’t exactly avoid doing so when he was speaking directly to me. I cleared my throat, bracing myself for the jolt of desire that zinged through me as soon as my attention fell on that classically handsome face... the artfully tousled blond hair, and the tattoos peeking out from his unbuttoned collar.
“It does seem to be, yes,” I agreed, hoping no one else at the table would notice the faint, hoarse rasp beneath the words.
Byron’s aloof gray gaze held mine effortlessly. Then, to my surprise, he looked pointedly toward the back of the restaurant, and back to me. It was only a flicker of a glance, but it conveyed, ‘ You, me, outside ,’ as clearly as if he’d whispered it directly in my ear.
Unease trickled through me, tangling unpleasantly with my twisted flush of attraction. After everything that had happened, why would this alpha want to talk to me alone?
I could have blown him off. Pretended I hadn’t noticed that loaded glance; gone back to what I was supposed to be doing. I should have done that. Almost certainly, I should have. With a steadying breath that I hoped wasn’t too obvious, I returned the welcoming host smile to my lips and slipped back into my role as unruffled restaurant part-owner.
“Thank you again for coming,” I said. “Please let me or one of the waitstaff know if there’s anything we can do to make your meal more enjoyable. Emiel, I’ll get that early dessert order into the kitchen for you, and I’m sure Mia will want to come out and say hello when she has a minute.”
The others made polite noises, Zalen offering his compliments to the chef. For about the hundredth time, I wondered which of them were fucking her... which of them harbored ambitions of making her theirs. It was just about all I could do to take my leave calmly, ignoring the throbbing pulse of blood fluttering in my throat.
I poked my head into the kitchen, where everything still seemed to be under perfect control—with Mia and Shani both immersed in their element.
“Mia, your guests are here. They’re waiting whenever you get a moment to go say hello,” I called. She looked up from her station, a broad smile on her face. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the heat of the grill before her.
“Thanks! I’ll be out in a bit,” she called back.
I nodded. “Everything’s looking good in the dining room. I’m going to take five and get some air, okay?”
She flashed me a thumbs-up sign, her smile still broad and happy. When her attention returned to the food she was grilling, I steeled myself and strode down the hall to the employee entrance.
The evening air was brisk. I appreciated the chill of the faint breeze after the heat of the restaurant and my own flustered emotions. I went and stood halfway along the alley, knowing that I was going to feel like a complete idiot if I’d misread Byron’s wordless signal.
I told myself I’d give him five minutes to show up, since that’s what I’d told the kitchen. It would be a relief if he didn’t appear, really. I still didn’t know what on earth he thought we needed to talk about, but whatever it was, I was guessing it wasn’t good.
Two minutes later, a tall figure strode casually in from the mouth of the alley, hands thrust into jacket pockets.
“Byron,” I said flatly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what could you and I possibly have to discuss?”
He snorted, sharp and humorless. “What do you think? We need to talk about Mia.”
My heart sank. “Do we really, though?”
He pressed into my space, all looming alpha presence and spicy musk. “This situation is shit, and you know it.” One hand came up, a finger pressing into my chest for emphasis.
My breath caught on a fight, flight, or freeze response. I wanted to surge forward; I wanted to cringe back. I wanted to snarl at him for being an asshole; I wanted him to cage me against the alley wall and put his mouth on mine.
None of those things would be happening.
I stood my ground. “Yes. I had, in fact, noticed that ruining my marriage and driving my wife into the arms of a pack of alphas is an all-around shit situation. For me, at least.”
The finger poked again. “It’s shit for all of us .”
This time, I knocked the offending hand away, not being terribly gentle about it. “What do you want from me? This may come as a shock to you, but if I knew how to fix the situation, I would have done it already.”
“That’s exactly what you need to do,” Byron snapped. “Fix it. Either fix your mistake and win her back, or get a fucking divorce and let her have her freedom!”
I stared at him, feeling like I’d missed some vital element of this conversation.
“I already offered her a divorce,” I hissed. “I promised I’d make it as painless as possible for her. Head off into the sunset without a fuss. She refused, and put me off until after things were settled with the restaurant!”
“Then you didn’t do it right!” Byron shot back, his eyes flashing fire in the light from the streetlamp. “You can’t just—” He gestured in frustration. “—be in limbo like this!”
I recognized when my own anger was about to rise up and slip my control. It was a feeling I hated—too much of a reminder of my adoptive father and his irrational rages. Yet, somehow, hating it never seemed to stop it from happening. I stepped forward, jabbing my own finger into the center of a well-defined chest.
“And you ,” I began, “can’t just waltz in here and tell me how to deal with my failing marriage and my wife, who I hurt . Just because you and I fucked a handful of times in a cheap motel room, it doesn’t give you the right to—”
A faint, indrawn breath from somewhere behind me had me whipping my head around, panic thrumming in my veins. A slender figure with a head topped by dark, flyaway hair stood silhouetted in the mouth of the alley.
Byron froze. “Luca?” he said.
The omega took a few steps closer, steadying himself against the restaurant’s brick wall. “Wait. Seriously... wait . You slept with both of them? What the fuck , Byron?”
Byron let out an irritated sigh, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, okay?”
Luca made a disbelieving noise, low in his throat. “Oh? Because I’m not gonna lie, Byron—but it sounds pretty fucking bad. Especially since I’m one hundred percent sure that Mia has absolutely no idea.”
“And we’d both like to keep it that way,” Byron said sharply—the first words out of his mouth tonight that I actually agreed with.
I drew breath to second the motion—only to be cut off, yet again. This time, by the sound of tires squealing to a halt as blinding headlights turned into the alley, dazzling my vision. I raised an arm, trying to shield my eyes, at the same time Luca stumbled backward past me, jostling me in his haste.
“Oh fuck... oh fuck ,” the omega breathed, his voice high and tight with panic.